The
Moo forgets
The
enemy within his soul
He
shouldn't have sold his integrity
He
shouldn't have sold his honesty
Now
that he has his power
He
could tell his lies in the first speech
He
isn't a reluctant hungry crazy of power
He
dreams of it through the years
He
forgets his 11 pieces of gold
It
will hang him controlling his soul
Outsiders
may think it is irrelevant
The
11 pieces of gold call the game
The
old playbook has returned
The
ways of Amno baru came in sight
The
Moo was from the that era
He
knew the playbook well
The
Moo still worries
He
hasn't got the numbers
Though
the old playbook of patronage rules
He
can't collect it all
The
bd government
The
foundation will fall
There
is no brilliant in the move
It
smells of bad tiding
May
June or July
He
may face his existence
If
the Old Man has his way
Or
the big C plays him out
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